


Deckerstar (Chloe’s Trying Her Best)

by dvntldr



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe is trying her best, Deckerstar - Freeform, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lucifer Needs a Hug, Mild Gore, actually we all need hugs, chloe’s pov, end me, i haven’t written a fic in forever, no beta we die like men, so this might be shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 03:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvntldr/pseuds/dvntldr
Summary: Based off a comment from one of my friends:“What if in that episode where Lucifer grabbed Chloe’s wrist to stop her from touching his scars, she thinks that he was abused? I mean, he hates God, he’s literally named after the Devil. She probably thinks his dad is in some sort of christian cult or something, right?”Voila.





	Deckerstar (Chloe’s Trying Her Best)

Lucifer Morningstar was an enigma.

 

If that even was his real name.

 

Chloe Decker frowned at her computer screen. Even though she’d seen it before, she needed to see it again. Lucifer Morningstar had not existed until five years ago. Of this she was certain. But people didn’t just _appear_ out of nothingness. It simply didn’t happen. When she’d researched into Mazikeen, the same result had popped up—no trace of anyone named Mazikeen, or even Maze, existed six years ago.

 

Not for the first time, her mind drifted back to the horrific scars that decorated Lucifer’s shoulderblades. It reminded her of flesh that had been carved right out of his body. How painful would it have been, she wondered? Both mentally and physically?

 

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t noticed the pain she’d unintentionally caused her friend (she still marvelled at the fact—well, maybe marvelled wasn’t the right word—that she and him, a cop and a club owner, were _friends_ ) when she’d attempted to touch his scars.

 

The way he’d squared his shoulders, his confident demeanour morphing into something that resembled shame, his reluctance to speak about the topic—it was surreal. For someone so in-your-face, so extravagant and open, Lucifer was surprisingly closed-off about his scars.

 

And he had said that the scars had been indirectly caused by his father.

 

She didn’t want to contemplate the terrible thought, but it did make sense; a broken child, brought up on religious practises. Hidden away from the world, taught that God’s word was final, hurt when he dared to disobey—it would explain why Lucifer hated any mention of God. What if his father had been a sort of religious zealot?

 

She knew that she was vaguely grasping at straws, and the theory seemed a little far-fetched, but then again, this was LA. She’d seen drug dealers and cults and gang wars—why would an abusive zealot be too far-fetched for her, considering the amount of complete and utter _bullshit_ she saw on a daily basis?

 

Well.

 

She flashed back to Lucifer’s pleading expression, the way his trembling hand seized her wrist, his grip tightening involuntarily.

 

“ _Don’t_. _Please_...”

 

She owed it to Lucifer to find out. And if she was right, well… She checked that her gun had a full magazine, an uncharacteristic snarl on her face.

 

She’d defend her friend. He’d done that and more for _her_ , after all…

 

“Call it an IOU.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 2am last night, I am so sorry-


End file.
